She said "yes," but _felt_ decidedly, that had she spoken the truth, the "yes" would have been "no." Lord Glenmore received several notes, and with a preoccupied air which prevented his observing the melancholy depicted on his wife's countenance, he snatched a hasty embrace, and was hurrying away, when looking back he said, "Remember love, not a word of this to any one, even to your mother. A few days will release the restraint I put upon your tongue," he added, smiling; "but in you I expect to find the _wonder_, that a woman can keep a secret;--in all things, I believe in, and trust you. Adieu, love, adieu." And he was gone. That which would have pleased a vain woman, and gratified an ambitious one, fell only like lead on the young Georgina's heart. "So," she said, sinking down in a chair, "I am a minister's wife. And am I the happier? Far, far from it; I am seldom now to see my husband, and when I do, the concerns of the public are to form our consideration and discourse; whereas, hitherto, in the short sunshine of our marriage, ourselves, our mutual hopes, our own dear home, have constituted all our care; and I fondly trusted, perhaps foolishly hoped, would have continued to do so. What a desolating change! But he says I must prepare for it; and since it is his will that thus it should be, I will endeavour to hide the mournful feelings of my heart. My dear mamma shall not see that I have wept either, for she will, perhaps, ascribe my tears to my husband's temper, and that would be worse still." So saying, she roused herself from the despondency into which she had fallen, bathed her face, called up smiles which were _not genuine_ for the first time in her life; and, having re-arranged her dress, she said to herself as she cast a glance at her mirror, "Am I not now metamorphosed into the wife of a minister?" Just as she was preparing to ring her bell for her carriage, Lady Tenderden arrived. "How well you are looking, _la belle aux yeux bleus_," said Lady Tenderden, kissing her: "there certainly never was any body who had the azure of the skies so exactly reflected in her eyes." This might be true; but it certainly was not true that she was looking well. To a vague answer given by Lady Glenmore she made no allusion; but looking at her very fixedly, so fixedly that it made her colour deeply, Lady Tenderden said, "Yet methinks something more than usual has occurred--is the report true?" "What report?" "Nay, now, do not make the _discreet_, for by to-morrow it will be in the newspapers. Come, tell me, your friend, am I not to wish you joy?"